


Hobbit Advent Calender Drabbles

by terryreviews



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Complete, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-03 10:41:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terryreviews/pseuds/terryreviews
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of drabbles as I work on and off with the Hobbit Advent thing from Tumblr http://hobbitadvent.tumblr.com/<br/>I didn't do all the prompts. Too much going on at the moment to do all of them. For now it'll be complete. BUT I will hopefully add more drabbles later.</p><p>Ch 1. Elrond/Lindir<br/>Ch 2 Bilbo/Bofur (Boffins)<br/>Ch 3 Elrond/Lindir AND Boffins<br/>Ch 4 Elrond/Lindir<br/>Ch 5 Boffins</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 3: Mulled Wine

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is about Elrond/Lindir and is for a dear pal on Tumblr. Glad you liked it Momo. 
> 
> Day 3: Mulled Wine was the prompt
> 
> More chapters will be written. All chapters are one shot, first draft, off the top of my head and un-beta-ed.

The Elves of Rivendell, Lindir supposed, could be considered a hybrid of Lothlorien and Mirkwood behaviors. Learned and calm like those of Lothlorien, but grounded and bold like Mirkwood.

One thing they all had in common however, wine. They enjoyed a good drink every now and again. While it took effort for them to get intoxicated, it certainly was not impossible. Not that Lindir would _ever_ drink himself to such a state. To make a fool of himself to the mocking of the twins? Or to his dear friend Erestor? Or even worse, his lover Elrond?

No, definitely altered states did not suit the head servant of the last homely house. Every now and again he’d have a glass at the end of a difficult day. Mainly though Lindir preferred water. Erestor teased him of his caution, his boring nature. But Elrond, now that Lindir had made his feelings known and had them accepted, did not seem to mind _boring_.

Currently he sat upon Elrond’s bed and through the white, gauzy curtains watched as the first snow fall drifted from their over shadowing gray clouds. The lights were dimmed and the afternoon dripped into evening slowly. Fire burned in the fireplace and Lindir for once resided in his night clothes much earlier than the last possible moment. He’d been known to fall asleep at his desk or in his bed fully clothed. But in a worn, comfortable shirt and pants, loose and warm, Lindir sat upon the bed waiting for his Lord and lover.

Behind him the door opened, the latch clicking lighting in the all but silent chamber. Turning his head he saw Elrond in his night clothes and lack of circlet. Smiling he stood up to help with a tray. Two mugs upon them.

"What is this my lord?"

"Lindir, when will you become comfortable to call me just Elrond." But there was no bite in his voice, just affection and a smile of his own as he placed the tray with the two mugs down on the nightstand. Mugs? Lindir recalled no mugs. Only fine flutes and cups in the cupboards.

"Sorry my lor…Elrond. It is hard when I still have to address you as such outside of this room and all the years I have served under you."

Elrond merely sighed and shook his head, and then gestured they should both return to the bed. Once secure against it’s sheet, he reached to the nightstand and placed one mug into Lindir’s hand and took the other for himself.

Simple, clay made things they were. Painted green. Not of Elvish make. There were minute flaws in the glazes and the continuity of the shape throughout the pieces. Lindir said nothing as he observed his cup and leaned to rest his head upon Elrond’s shoulder, watching the snow fall and the sky darken.

"They were a gift from Bilbo Baggins." Elrond answered the questions his love hadn’t said.

"The halfing that travelled through here with Thorin Oakenshield?"

"Indeed. He had brought them with him in his haste to pack for his adventure, but thought that I might appreciate them as a thank you for allowing them to rest here and for my offer to him to remain if he wished."

"Very simple and kind the halflings are."

"Very much so. I hope that Mr.Baggins will return in one piece for I would much like to see him again."

Snuggled together, Elrond finally pressed the lip of the mug against his and sipped at the red liquid inside.

"Mm, I think you may like this Lindir. It was another one of Bilbo’s gifts. A recipe for a drink they have in the Shire around winter he told me."

Lindir glanced at his own mug once more and tilted it back to see dark red liquid. Once brought up to his nose he smelled something spiced. Cinnamon? Careful once realizing the drink was hot, he sipped.

"You’re right," he said after he swallowed, "It is very good."

They finished their mugs over the next hour as they enjoyed the solitude of each other and the warmth of this new drink.


	2. Day 4: Snow Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bofur used to love snow....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as always with this series of drabbles, quickly cobbled together, written without editing or what have you. Just quick, simple things.

Bofur never minded snow much. He lived in a mountain after all. He didn’t really need to go outside all that much in the first place for it to bother him. He worked on his toys, his metal works, his wooden flutes when time permitted at his shop in one of the city squares. At night he would go to his simple rooms with all the other rowdy working dwarves on the other side of the underground city from the nobles.

Of course he went outside at least once a week or so. He didn’t mind the fresh air, the sunlight or moonlight. Even the occasional rainfall was something to smile at. And sometimes he and his brother Bombur would go into the man city next to the great halls of his folk, and sell their left over wares to the eager human children looking for more excitement than what the men in their smith shops could forge.

But what Bofur really enjoyed, was snow. So pure white and silent. Cold, much colder than the inside of the mountain. To be one of the first to stamp a solid foot print in pristine layers of frozen wonder, ah, he’d pay for it. To be lucky enough to stand outside with one of the guards on watch (whom he’d grown very close to and had died when Smaug attacked) with a hot drink and silent snow. To glance up and for as far as he could see from his low position the snow capping his home in a beautiful costume. He could not really describe it. It simply felt…nice.

Now with his family’s wanderings to the Blue Mountains where’d they’d set up their new home under Thorin’s leadership, and the go between travels between local man-folk towns, Bofur couldn’t say he particularly loved snow anymore. He wasn’t a rich or noble dwarf. He was a simple one. One who could adjust to hardships with a sigh and smile of acceptance of the difficulties of life. But after traveling for over 60 years, a number of times being in blizzards…the lack of a massive, productive, fire warmed city, filled with friends to keep him warm…no Bofur could not say he enjoyed snow any more. Looking at snowy peaks made me saddened for his and his kin’s loss. He hadn’t looked upon the Lonely Mountain in quite some time, but he remember the snowy crown up top, and how beautiful and regal it made everything around when the snow fell.

But here and now…he was travelling in a company of 15 if you included the wizard who did as he chose and came and went easily. 14 if you only included the one that almost got away; Bilbo Baggins, the meek hobbit from the Shire.

Oh he was no longer meek that was for certain. The fact he chose to stay when he had the chance to escape, that he defended Thorin with his life, he was a large footed fellow with many surprises to offer yet. Bofur, for one, had to admit he waged Bilbo wouldn’t come along. Lost a decent amount to Gandalf for that. But once he was apart of the company, he felt fond over the quiet little guy. So concerned with dishes and handkerchiefs. Really, not Dwarf-like in the slightest. And once they started travelling, stopping to make camp, Bilbo had a fair story or two and a couple of jokes once Bofur or even Ori pressed him a bit for conversation.

Mainly the Halfling talked of small goings on in the Shire like family dinners, or once when he and his brother had gone down to the woods to search for elves and ended up chased by bees. Quaint, simple, hobbit stories. But nice ones none the less. Bofur enjoyed smoking a pipe or two, content to listen. Most of the company tended to ignore or tease Bilbo. Sure there was Balin who was pretty kind and open to an extra pair of hands (grocer like as they were), Ori, himself, and maybe the princes, but Bilbo was alone. He could see and understand that from the get go and did his best to be friendly.

Tore his heart out to have to wish his friend all the luck in the world and mean it as he did. But now, now he knew Bilbo was in it for the long term. That’s why they woke up on the same bed roll as the snow fell. Bilbo had stayed. And then it started to snow and he, being the kind of dwarf he was, couldn’t just sit back and watch their burglar freeze to death now could he?

Curled up, tight and warm near a fire as the snow fell around and on them, soft and silent. Bofur could feel the rise and fall of Bilbo’s body against his as his friend slept and he looked up into the dark sky with all those tiny, pure flakes, and decided that snow fall wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe Bilbo would even want to be the first one up with him to stomp out a trail of foot prints in the morning before anyone else. Smiling, Bofur closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.


	3. Day 5: Traditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elrond/Lindir and later Bilbo/Bofur all share in some nice winter season traditions with each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping you enjoy it. It is a two parter type chapter with Elrond and Lindir up top and Boffins at the bottom.

**Elrond/Lindir**

Lindir brushed the loose strand back behind his shoulder where it belonged. While thinking on it, he reached a hand back to the silver ornament pulling his hair back. Each metal wing under his pointed fingertips broadened the smile. It was thoughtful of his lord certainly.

He’d woken early this morning to a curtain darkened room. Foggy ghostings drifted over his mind; in remembrance of his spiced drink (or two) the night prior. He sat up, stretching his long arms over his head nice and long before climbing out of bed to get started on the day. Really, he thought as he pulled open the curtains on a snowy, but sunny day, his Lord Elrond should have woken him up earlier so he could have gotten a head start on the day.

With as much haste as he could muster, while still maintaining accuracy and double checking, Lindir undressed and folded his night clothes. He could bring them down to the laundry since he’d accidently spilled some wine on his shirt when Elrond had gone for a kiss. He pulled from the drawer, that Elrond had given him in his wardrobe so he wouldn’t have to trek nude to his room for a change, a fine set of green robes with matching pants and deep red cape that Erestor had gotten for him the year prior during the Winter season. Erestor had said he needed more than just hues of blues in his robes.

Once dressed he set about finding his brush, tie, and circlet. Thankfully he’d managed to sit fairly still in his sleep so he found very few knots to detangle, and the tying of his mid-ponytail barely took a blink. After all, he used to help ready the children when they were younger and if wrestling with two young elflings was not a testimony to his skill than nothing could be. Placing his circlet round his head to rest, he sat up from the vanity, gathered his night clothes and began to head out the door. Until he noticed from the corners of his vision a sparkling on the nightstand closest to where he’d been sleeping.

Curious, he wandered over to see a piece of find metal work upon a piece of paper reading _It is early yet, but I would hope you’d accept this token of my affections_. Gingerly he lifted the sinewy wirework to his eyes and found…vines, entangled with each other. Leaves and butterflies woven cleverly into the design with a few amethyst gems placed in the wings and a few tiny emeralds touching up the leaves. On the under side was a long clip, the type designed for hair.

****

Elrond greeted his head servant in his office having already had breakfast and now working on a few orders with Erestor and Glorfindel.

"Hello Lindir," he said with a glance up and a happy smile, "I trust you slept well." He went back down to the papers. Erestor and Glorfindel smiled at the younger elf before too becoming absorbed in their works as well.

"Very well, thank you. I came to ask if there would be  a need for my service while you are taken up in meeting. I could send for something if you are in need of a drink or snack?"  Lindir asked with an infliction upwards.

The three other elves returned full gazes upon Lindir. Typically the Head Servant did not seek them out to enquire about drinks or snacks and went about his day organizing cleaning and cooking, passing papers along. He came when summoned when work was to be done. Perhaps it was a touch of the giving spirit? It was getting closer to that time and Lindir did fuss over them so as it was if they worked too long or hard.

"Very kind of you to offer, but I believe we are content for now. It is appreciated though." Elrond said.

"Very well, I shall return to my duties." With that Lindir turned to leave. It had not been a particularly good excuse to come and see his lord, but he believed he kept a passing tone of professionalism. It was hardly he fault he’d been impatient enough to come and see his lover. Shame he was in a meeting but at least it was with their mutual friends.

As he left the room, he heard,

"Lindir, that is a lovely hair clip you have. Is it new?" Erestor remarked.

With a look over his shoulder he said, “Yes. Traditionally Giving Day presents are given on the day. However, I received an early gift this morning.” He grinned affectionately as Elrond glanced away. With a polite bow of his head and a thanks for noticing to Erestor, Lindir shut the door behind him and leaned on it for a moment.

"He makes me so happy." He whispered to himself with closed eyes before breathing in and pushing off to begin his day’s work.

________________________________________________________________

**Boffins (Bilbo/Bofur)**

Bilbo, as any young hobbit at the time…and now, enjoyed Giving Day. He enjoyed the entire month of anticipation. Well, now more than back when he was a child when he’d sneak into the sitting room where presents from his parents and Old Took were kept in large piles (that he had to share with his sibling). He laughed to himself at that; how sharing had been such a bother for him when a child. Perhaps that’s why he’d lived alone for so long, he didn’t enjoy other’s touching his things.

Bofur was different of course. Bofur had begun sharing his things with Bilbo long before Bilbo _willingly_ shared his. Starting with a filthy, torn piece of shirt substituting a handkerchief, to his mother-made knitted gloves, Bofur had always be generous with the few possessions he had. And most important to Bilbo that Bofur shared…it was himself. The one true thing he could offer and it was Bilbo’s.

Thankfully with the victory of the battles and the reclaiming of Erebor, Bofur and Bilbo both had found themselves wanting for nothing. Except of course modest little Bilbo longing for the rolling hills and shelf full of old volumes back in the Shire.

But for now he was contented to be here with Bofur now. It was the winter season and all and by staying in Erebor as it was being rebuilt made certain for Bilbo that he was surrounded by friends this time around. Not that the Shire was a lonely place. Stick your head round the corner and a smiling face and perhaps a desert of two would be there to greet you. But these were the closest things he had for family. His 13 dwarves with their food fights and belching contest. Especially _his_ one dwarf.

Bilbo enjoyed watching Bofur’s relaxation, his happiness at being put to dwarvish work digging out sections of collapse or being in a true setting of his peers. It warmed his heart to see Bofur in his _true_ home. But still, it had been a long time since he’d seen the shire. And right now with all the wonderful feelings of sharing and love being spread around from hobbit to hobbit, he was certain there would be decorations going up of little wooden figures and baked goods, and the parents would be shopping for odd and end toys and games. 

That was when he’d gotten an idea, as mash potatoes flew passed his face again, he promised to stay here with Bofur for a few more months then they’d start heading toward the Shire and start a tradition of back and forth between the two every year or so. Traditions were important for a hobbit. Kept them knowing where they’d been and where to go. Kept them together.

After finishing his fourth plate (he was a hobbit after all), he placed a kiss to Bofur’s mouth and excused himself for the evening.

An hour or so later Bofur came back to his lavish room. Bit fancy for his simple tastes, but Thorin had insisted upon it. And there he saw his hobbit on the floor with scrapes of wood and a couple of knives.

"What’s this then? Taking up whittling?"

"I know it is more your hobby than mine, but I would like to share something with you." Bilbo said patting the space next to him.

"Oh?" Bofur sat with a thump and leaned into his hobbit, "what is that?"

"A winter season tradition in the Shire. To make decorations to be strung up around our homes for the holiday." Bilbo picked up a piece of wood and a knife and held them out to Bofur who took them.

"You make your own decorations then?"

Bilbo smiled and picked up his own supplies, “Oh yes, every year. We used to sit around mother and father and Old Took as we sculpted our ornaments out of clay. Then, as we got older, we began carving them out of wood.”

Bofur smiled and the warmth in Bilbo’s voice as he remembered. “And what did you make?”

"Oh, all kinds of things. Animals, food in some cases, books, things like that. It can be anything really. Never had a theme. It is just something to do with those you love." Bilbo glanced around, "Pitty there isn’t any paint."

Bofur began placing knife into the wood and started on his design, “Were you ever good at whittling?”

Bilbo grinned sheepishly and gave a little laugh, “Not especially. But mother kept every single one of them. I have them now it a chest under my bed.”

"You don’t put them up?"

"Never a point when there was no one to celebrate with." Bilbo muttered as he began his own creation. Suddenly there was warmth all around him as Bofur came round to press along his back and wrap his arms around him, "Bofur?"

"You’ve got to go easy." He whispered while taking the hobbit’s hands in his own, "Just like this." Careful to not tug on Bilbo’s hands, he guided the actions of the knife bending and shaving off a flake of wood. "What are you trying to make?" He asked placing a gentle kiss to Bilbo’s temple.

"Promise not to laugh?"

"Don’t know if I can with an opening line like that."

They chuckled before Bilbo sighed and said, “I wanted to make your mittens.”

"My mittens?" Bofur asked a bit surprised, laugh attempted to be kept down.

"Yes…for the time you shared them with me. I was going to do your ridiculous hat but the only piece I could find to spare from the fire was not nearly as large."

Dear Bilbo. Another moustache tickling kiss to his cheek now and Bofur said, “Well, that won’t be too hard then. I’ll help you.”

By the end of the night they had succeeded in one pair of wooden mittens, and one pair of wooden hobbit feet carved, unpainted, resting side by side on the mantle as the two laid in each other’s arms for the night.


	4. Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lindir has taken a chance to decorate with bells

Elrond pondered over the page of the book his dear friend Gandalf had given him the year prior on his birthday (though, he informed his enthusiastic friend, he was much too old to be keeping track of such a thing any longer with gifts and cakes). Perhaps he thought it was a rather amusing find to add to the lord’s grand collection of books. Not a book Elrond would seek out for himself in any case.

Gandalf had given him a rather _explicit_ novel written in a village of men and found in a discreet corner of a tucked away book shop. At least that is what it had been described as when he had unwrapped it and saw nothing but a plain red cover with golden etched words _To My Love_ into the surface. His friend had always had a sense of humor. On more than one occasion the wizard had suggested that perhaps Elrond should add _excitement_ to his life to help relieve the stress of rule if only for a night; as it was the Elven lord had rarely taken _comfort_ since his wife had released him from their bond and traveled. When Elrond replied if Gandalf was volunteering the wizard looked startled and had laughed it off bashfully.

Now, he glanced up from the descriptive chapter he was on, he had a volunteer. Tiny clinks and rattles of the contents of the large box shifted as Lindir fussed through them.

"I know they are here." Lindir’s voice muttered and frustrated with his lack of finding what he sought.

"What is it you are seeking my dear Lindir?"

"Giving Day decorations my….Elrond." He caught himself this time Elrond noted with a smile. Typically Lindir came back to his title when speaking to him; even when they were alone like this. It made him laugh when the younger elf did it in the throws of passion for Lindir would always blush and stutter to correct himself.

"And you are sure they are in that box?"

Lindir straightened and wiped a quick sleeve over his brow before turning his bemused eyes to his love currently resting on the bed. “Yes for I put your childrens’ in here and placed them as I always have in the top shelve of your stand up wardrobe. I have placed them here for the last few hundred years and now they are gone.”

Elrond placed a sprig of mistletoe (a thing Erestor had given him on the first day of the month winking as Lindir walked passed) between the pages of his book and rose to join his worried lover.

"I am sure they were here." Lindir’s pout could put Elladan and Elrohir’s to shame.

"They may just be in another box my love. There are several large ones yet in the storage rooms filled with decorations." Elrond placed a hand on Lindir’s shoulder and leaned in placing a tender kiss to his cheek. "Come, I will help you find them."

It was only after they had begun down the hall that Elrond realized he forgot to ask _which_ decorations the younger wanted to find so much. They had to be special for Lindir to be worked up. It could not be one of his children’s hand crafts for they were beyond count as it was (Elrond admitted he was a touch sentimental when it came to his children and wife. His daughter’s and wife’s belongings were kept in a chest under his bed).

Tinkles and jingles of tiny bells echoed through the hall suddenlty as they walked passed the outdoor dining room.

"Oh! Of course." Lindir held out an arm that prompted whacked Elrond in the chest. The fact that in his realization he did not seem to notice confirmed fondly for Elrond that Lindir was growing much more casual with him to not instantly go about apologizing a dozen times.

"Of course?" He prompted as he followed his head servant backward to the open air dining room.

"Yes, I had forgotten I had taken the bells and asked if Glorfindel and Erestor could put them up for me while they had a spare moment."

Sure enough this was confirmed when the two aforementioned elves climbed down from the chairs they’d been using to raise them up. 

"Oh Lindir, Elrond, glad you could come and see before dinner." Glorfindel said with a large grin.

"Took us a while but we have managed to do as you requested Lindir."

Lindir smiled in return and reached down to take his lord’s hand, “Thank you both very much for the help. It is most appreciated.”

"Of course." Glorfindel said with a thick pat to the head servant’s shoulder.

"That is what friends do. And it did turn out rather well. Come, have a look."

Pulling Elrond by the arm stung the older elf a bit, but Lindir being the gentle soul he was, could hardlhy harm a warrior like himself. Rather the sudden shock of being tugged, akin to an eager child pulling their parent to a shop window, caused the mild lurch. He _just_ caught the glimpse of his two friends grinning at him as his love pulled him and then turned them around.

Bells with red ribbon and garlands of green hung in wonderful swoops from pillar to pillar. Handing unto the garlands were miscolanious personal ornaments Elrond had never seen before.

"I had asked the staff and those of your guard if they wished to help with the decorating. This is the last _homely_ house after all and I wished it feel as such for those who live in or near it. I knew you would appreciate it just as you show your appreciation for all those around you. I rather enjoyed planning it and the best part is that the bells,” He paused to listen to the tiny metal tings of sound, “will sound when the wind passes them.”

Elrond felt himself warm as he looked into the beaming face of his lover. And though he was sure Lindir would have objected harshly to it, he wrapped an arm around the smaller one’s waist and began kissing him in front of the other two. Of course Lindir gave a muffled cry of embaressement and even patted his palm against the shoulder of the arm not holding him up, but it was a deep, warm kiss that soon had a response and an arm around the elf lord’s neck.

It was Erestor’s whistle that had Lindir pushing Elrond back shyly.

"Oh no need to stop because of us." Erestor teased.

"They just are worried that the chill would touch places better left hidden if they continued out here." Glorfindel chimed in.

Elrond chuckled as Lindir hugged, but in that particular moment  a strong gust tore through the area. The loud sound of dozens of bells rung.

"It is beautiful Lindir. I am sure that all will think so."

And then he paused and laughed to himself. That one line that he happened to remember from _that_ book, _"and their voices rose up like bells into the fading sunlight_.”

Perhaps he could find out how “bell like” his Lindir could become?


	5. Day 7: Wrapping Paper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwarves use cloth to wrap their gifts...so what does that say when Bilbo is wrapped in a blanket?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I’m SO late on these….so…I guess I’m just going to wing it. This is a Boffins fic for the advent calendar and I’m just going to do my best to keep up. Rough as always, written last minute, bit rushed, no finesse.
> 
> Boffins (Bofur/Bilbo)
> 
> Rating this one…Teen only because there is suggestive content, you are warned.

 

Bofur woke up to the light breaths of the sleeping hobbit next to him. Large feet jammed between his calves and thrown over his legs, curly topped head bunched under his chin and one lazy arm draped over his middle. Not a  bad way to wake up he decided with a tiny yawn. Careful to let Bilbo sleep, Bofur untangled himself from the heavily sleeping body and placed a kiss to his forehead before going to the bathroom to relieve himself. Briefly he reflected on having his _own_ bathroom in his room for the very first time. Well, his and Bilbo’s, but still growing up, there was little room for anything, no real privacy sharing with his family a small set of rooms in the villages of the Blue Mountains.

After coming out of bathroom, Bofur grinned when he saw Bilbo leaning against the headboard. The thick quilts wrapped around his body, smiling groggily at the dwarf with messed hair and sleep reddened cheeks.

"Morning." Came his greeting.

"Sure is." Bofur walked back to the bed with slow steps and a lowering of his lids. Climbing onto the bed, he leaned over to plant a firm, long kiss to the halfling’s mouth. When he pulled away a few moments later Bilbo chuckled and said,

"A good morning as it turns out." He then paused and said with a timid yet eager voice, "Giving Day is soon." His eyes became occupied with the blue square patch covering his knees. Lips twitching trying to keep his smile in check.

"Aye, very soon." Bofur replied, noticing with a once over the sudden tension in Bilbo’s body, avoidance of eyes. If it weren’t for the hidden smile he might’ve worried.

"We’ll need to wrap the gifts soon." Practical as always, Bofur nodded. With a practiced casualness he began running a hand against a plump cheek. His hand, Bilbo noticed, was warm. Always warm and large, comforting to have such a strong, wide, man to hold at night.

"We don’t have any of that fancy paper you told me about."

Bilbo returned his eyes to Bofur’s for a moment before glancing back at the square. “There is at least one present that doesn’t need wrapping paper. It is wrapped the way dwarves wrap gifts, in little bits of cloth or in a pouch.”

Bofur leaned in to place kisses against Bilbo’s jaw, enjoying the shutter he always wormed out of his hobbit during moments when the anticipation grew. They were still _very_ new to each other after all. Hadn’t _progressed_ too far yet.

"Is there now?" Large hand moving to rub a hip through the covers. A small squirm and Bilbo’s hand came out the top of the blanket to reach round the dwarf’s neck. Leaning into the furry, tickling kisses.

Clearing his throat once, twice, Bilbo replied “Oh…yes…uh…well…for you. If you wanted to open it early?”

"Well," Bofur pulled back, dramatically looking Bilbo up and down, "you do make a fine present. I’m not sure if I want to spoil the surprise and ruin such wonderful wrapping you’ve got." He winked at the small smile Bilbo gave him, eyes warm and nervous, but a tiny spark lay in waiting if only Bofur would let it loose.

Bilbo snorted for a moment, and in a true act of his boldness, took one his hands from around the dwarf’s neck to try and yank the cloth between them.

"Oh hey there!" Bofur laughed before swatting the hobbit’s hand away, "This is my present. I’d like to unwrap it myself."

Turned out to be a very nice morning.


End file.
